"When were you going to tell me?" My voice was cracking under the pressure of what was running through my head.

"I was going to tell you, of course I was Poppy. I didn't know how to."

"You just do, you just tell me that my best friend was back from war. You just do." He grabbed my arm and dragged me into an exam room.

"I didn't want to have to tell you."

"Then why did you bring me here? Why drag me across the country without telling me?"

"I didn't exactly drag you here Poppy." The rage in the back of my throat was burning and I was struggling to think of what else to say without bursting into tears; but I couldn't let him get away with this.

"Then what am I supposed to do? He didn't tell me that he had returned; he was still sending me emails from Iraq."

"I can't answer those questions for you; you need to ask him." He's only right about that; he was wrong about everything else.

"Where is he?"

"I can page him."

"No, just tell me where he is."

"He should be prepping for surgery with Dr Karev." I slammed the door on Derek as I exited the exam room; he deserved to have it slammed on him. Who does that to a friend? I literally stomped off in the direction of the rank of ORs in the hope of finding Will not already scrubbed in. I ignored requests of help from attendings and residents on the way because I needed this to be sorted out so I could breathe.

"Dr Alden; I need a consult on my patient."

"Not now Dr Bailey." I was going to regret that.

I diverted my route so I could pass the OR board and pinpoint his location. Mark and Teddy were occupying the space in front of the schedule so I had to muster some sort of normality on my face so no questions could be asked. I discovered he was in OR two and left quickly, even though my face looked normal the thought of talking to anyone else right now made me feel sick. Although not as sick as I felt about talking to Will. My anger was wearing off and it had been replaced with sickness and fear instead.

Regardless of the fear chasing around my body I marched on to OR two still hoping that I could catch Will before he began the surgery. Stood outside the swing door I tried to stop the imminent hyperventilation brewing in my chest so I could walk in with purpose and full of confidence. I gave myself thirty seconds before pushing open the door.

"Dr Karev leave." Will clocked me before I had a chance to say anything.

"I haven't finished scrubbing in." Karev sounded annoyed at the request from Will.

"Leave, now." His voice rose quickly; which amplified the fact I had nothing to say when Karev left. We stood in an angry, loud silence where I was unsure if what he said was in fact really meant for me. "What?" He's pissed at me?

"What do you mean what?" I was instantly thankful that my tongue connected with the furious part of my brain.

"What are you doing here?" He turned the tap off and turned from the sink to face me; his face was so twisted with hate and loathing for me he almost didn't look like my best friend.

"Excuse me? What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Iraq. What are you doing here?"

"I came back. Just following your lead. Only six months later." I deserved that.

"You've been back for six months?" My voice was at the limit of its volume now and I could see the scrub nurses in the OR looking at us. "You've been back in this country and safe for six months and you couldn't, just once, let me know?"

"I wasn't obligated to inform you." Why was he being so cold? He dismissed me with his eyes and physically left the conversation.

"Yes you were. We have lived our lives together for decades. Actual decades. I deserved to know."

"You deserve nothing." He pointed his index finger at me violently. "Leave my OR." He waved me off with contempt.

"Excuse me?" I literally couldn't believe he was speaking to me like this, after all these years we never argued like this about anything, we ran a business together and went to war and never argued like this.

"Leave. Leave now." I would have stayed if I could have thought of something constructive to say but nothing came to mind so I had to go. I pushed through the door I entered and came face to face with several people, most of whom I knew, all of whom I work with. I hoped my face looked good and that I didn't look like I had the worst argument ever with the person I trusted the most.

I found myself leaning against the back wall of an elevator trying to let go of the breath trapped in my chest. It was all I could do not to pathetically burst into tears in front of the hospital staff. As the doors closed on me I let the breath out, it crashed out of my chest accompanied with tears and sobbing.

I tried to regulate my breathing on my own but it was quickly descending into hyperventilation. I couldn't catch my breath. And it was making my panic. And the panic was making me lose control. And then the tears. I could feel them fall down my face. A barely audible sob fell out of my throat. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder.

"I thought you knew." I was thankful it wasn't Derek because I knew I couldn't be civil to him right now. I turned around to see Mark standing there. Eyes verging on the sympathetic and caring.

"Don't look at me."

"How can I not look at you?" His voice was so soft.

"Don't." I could barely speak. I could barely breathe. He opened his arms for me to fall into and I did, hard. His arms wound around me pulling me close against his body; his warmth seeped though me and I tucked my head into his neck.

And then we ruined it. I think it was actually my fault. Along with everything else.

My lips responded instantly when his touched mine. In this moment I needed this, I needed this closeness and intimacy. He gently pushed my body up against the elevator wall; his hands ran the length of my torso ending up tangled in my hair.

The tears subsided from the pressure of his body against mine. But we were still kissing, after the hysteria subsided we were still kissing and he was still pushing his body against mine. We've been here before in dark corners in poorly lit bars but never like this; it never felt like this before, never sober. This has to stop.

My hands stopped feeling out his toned shoulders and my arms ceased holding onto him; but my lips were struggling to disengage. I had to peel them off unwillingly. Why was I feeling this way? It had to be the fight.

"Derek said he was going to tell you." I didn't want to hear him talk. Especially when he was touching my face. "I just assumed he did it before he got back." I wanted him to stop talking but my mouth couldn't form the words I wanted to say. "I wanted to tell you."

I didn't realise that he had stopped the elevator for me. It was only when he started it again that I realised his kind gesture. "Mark; what we did." This was bad.

"It was a hot kiss. Just leave it as that." We both leant on the back wall; I rested my head on his shoulder as we reached the ground floor.